


The Tortoise and the Angel

by tweedfeather, WickedWriter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, Found Family, Humor, M/M, Mistreatment of books, Mutual Pining, Pets, Pining, Reptile - Tortoise, Tortoise Causing Mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29364066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tweedfeather/pseuds/tweedfeather, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWriter/pseuds/WickedWriter
Summary: Years before the Apocalypse that wasn't, Crowley stumbled upon a poor creature that he felt the need to rescue. Given that demons aren't supposed to save anything, he turns to Aziraphale for help.Of course Aziraphale would always be there for Crowley, but he wasn't expecting to wind up with a tortoise at the bookshop. This may have been a bit more than what he bargained for.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang





	The Tortoise and the Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission into the Reverse Big Bang. All the beautiful artwork was made by the talented [Tweedfeather](https://tweedfeather.tumblr.com/).

“Angel!” Crowley’s fist hit the closed door of the bookshop in rapid succession. Although he had been thinking clearly, he could have just as easily opened the lock with a simple snap of his fingers. Unfortunately his mind was wrapped up elsewhere, so he resorted to trying to beat the door into submission. “I know you’re in there, open up.”

After a few more raps on the door, he could hear the heavy click of the lock sliding open. Aziraphale peeked out of the door, confusion very evident on his face. 

“Crowley, what on Earth is going on?” Once he realized who it was that was practically assaulting the shop door, he opened it fully. “I was in the middle of a very splendid book.”

“Course you were. But I need your help, angel. It's urgent.” 

Although Aziraphale was naturally pale, well as naturally as you can call a corporation created for an actual Angel of Heaven, the blood drained from his face. 

“Is it… Oh, right. Please come in.” He gestured for inside but Crowley just shook his head.

“In a moment, but what I need your help with is in my car.” 

“In your car?” Over the years that Crowley had owned his Bentley, Aziraphale had refused a ride on many occasions, purely for the fact the Crowley didn’t obey —or even acknowledge‒ the laws of the road. He always got a little kick watching Aziraphale panic over something as simple as speeding as if he was going to crash at any moment, not that Crowley would ever allow anything to happen to either of them. “I don’t understand, Crowley. What is going on? Has either side figured out… you know.” 

“No.” He could see Aziraphale relax quite considerably. Both Angel and Demon had been working at the Dowlings’ house for a few years, raising young Warlock. Hopefully with their influences the Antichrist would grow up to be nothing more than a normal human, but only time would tell. 

For now, they both needed to continue to work together while each of their own sides suspected nothing of the sort. It was a fine line to walk. 

And that didn’t even include the feelings that Crowley had developed for the angel over a millenia. Nope, those had to be pushed away, ignored, and repressed or else it could endanger not just himself but Aziraphale too.

“No, they haven’t. But I may have stumbled into something else and need help.”

There was a look of concern that washed over Aziraphale’s face. “Of course I would help you. Is everything alright?” 

Crowley made a string of noises that could have been confused for attempts at making words. While the situation seemed dire in his mind, upon seeing how distressed Aziraphale looked, he was starting to second guess himself. 

“Er- yeah. Just…” He sighed. May as well just show him and get it over with. “Just follow me.”

Aziraphale trailed only half a step behind Crowley as they approached the Bentley. Gathering up his courage, Crowley opened the back door of his pristine car and could hear Aziraphale gasp in surprise. 

“Is that…” He looked between Crowley and the creature. “Is that a tortoise?” 

“Yup.” Crowley leaned against the door, trying to make as much room as possible for Aziraphale to see. The tortoise in question was bundled up in an old blanket, hiding as much in its shell as possible. It looked to be rather large, taking up an entire seat to itself and the blanket could barely keep closed around it. Crowley could sense the fear and apprehension that was radiating off this creature. 

Angels could easily sense love in an area, or around a person, but demons lost that ability when it was taken from them in the fall. Instead they could sense fear and anguish, and this poor animal had a torrid of those emotions coming off in droves. Not just the natural fear that animals had due to natural selection; it wasn’t scared of being eaten or hunted by a larger predator. No, it was something worse. As if it had faced some great cruelty and was expecting it to happen with them. 

“Why on Earth?” Aziraphale reached out and brushed a few fingers over the shell. The tortoise retreated even moreso, and the blanket fell off revealing the paint markings across it. “Oh.”

“Found her like this. I can’t bring her to my place since I can’t explain why a demon would be helping one of Her creatures. I thought maybe you might be able to.”

Aziraphale looked at the tortoise and made a soft tutting noise. “The poor thing. Let’s bring her inside.”

There were several assumptions that people made when seeing Aziraphale for the first time. Usually those assumptions were based on the fact that he preferred the company of books and indulged in wine and food more often than most. But Crowley knew the truth: there was a reason Aziraphale was stationed at the eastern gate in Eden. And he was reminded of this fact when Aziraphale reached into the car and lifted the animal, clutching her close to his chest. 

The angle made it a bit awkward, and Crowley was thankful for the fact it was late enough that there wasn’t anyone on the street at the moment. It would be hard to explain to random people why this mild-mannered bookshop owner could easily pick up something that was over two hundred pounds. 

Crowley helped him into the bookshop, closing and locking the door behind them.

Once Aziraphale was in the backroom, he set the tortoise down on the floor. Crowley placed the blanket from the car on top of her.

“I’m going to make some tea.” Aziraphale turned to Crowley. “And when I’m done I need you to explain to me just what the hell is going on.” 

Crowley nodded and watched Aziraphale leave, presumably to go into the flat upstairs to make tea, not that it was used for much else. Although either one of them could have miracled the tea, Crowley knew that Aziraphale found comfort in the routine of brewing tea and it also signaled when he needed a moment to himself. Crowley respected that and allowed the time that Aziraphale needed to gather his thoughts. 

While he was alone in the backroom of the shop, Crowley would normally sprawl on the couch to get as comfortable as possible, oftentimes trying to arrange himself in a way that he knew would get Aziraphale flustered‒ after all, temptation was his specialty‒ but not this time. 

Instead he found himself sitting cross-legged on the ground running a soothing hand over the shell of the tortoise. It seemed to be working as the strength of her fear was starting to diminish. Her arms and legs moved the blanket slightly, as if she was relaxing and allowed herself to come out of her shell a bit. 

“It’s okay, girl.” Crowley hushed her. “You're going to be just fine. Me and Aziraphale will take care of you. We know a thing or two about taking care of others. Right now we’ve been helping Warlock and I think he’s going to turn out fine. We will help you too.” 

The sound of soft footsteps brought Crowley’s attention away from the animal. Aziraphale sat down on the floor next to Crowley, placing a cup of tea down within reach. 

“I thought you may want a cup as well.” Aziraphale took a sip from his own mug, it was the ridiculous one with wings that Crowley had found in a shop years ago. He gave it to Aziraphale as a joke, but it seemed that it was the only mug he used anymore.

“Thanks.” Although Crowley wasn’t much for tea, he picked up the cup and cradled the warmth between his palms, trying to center himself a touch. “It's been a weird day.”

“My dear, we are sitting on the floor of the bookshop with a tortoise underneath a blanket. I don’t think weird begins to describe it.” 

For the first time today, Crowley cracked a smile. “Right. Well, I suppose you want to know why you have a reptile in your shop.” 

“I assume you're not talking about yourself.” 

Crowley couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that escaped. “Yeah, yeah. ‘Course I’m not talking ‘bout myself. I was on a job today, should have been easy. A little temptation, trying to get this guy to embezzle from his company he worked at. He was already leaning towards it anyway, just needed a little push in the right direction.”

“Okay. I’m afraid I’m not seeing the connection.” 

“Well, turns out this reason why this guy was an easy target was because he was already involved in selling exotic animals. He had this tortoise locked up in a cage in his basement, she’s a real Galapagos too.”

Aziraphale tutted softly, reaching out to pet her. The moment must have scared her, since Crowley could see her legs pull back into the shell and her fear became more palpable. 

“She must have been taken when she was young. Probably never knew a good life, dunno if she even remembers her home.”

Crowley swallowed around a lump in his throat. This poor animal was ripped away from the only home she knew and forced to live somewhere she didn’t want to be, having to put up with who knows what kind of crap from the people who controlled everything in her life. Sadly, Crowley could relate.

“Anyway. I managed to find something to help me sneak her cage out of the basement. It took a lot of effort to get her in the car, but I figured it out. I was going to bring her back to my place, but if another demon showed up I wouldn’t know how to explain why I was helping her.”

“So you brought her here. If any of the angels paid a visit they wouldn’t think twice about me taking care of one of Her creatures.”

“Exactly.” 

“I am more than happy to help you, Crowley. Although I don’t know the first thing about taking care of any reptiles. I’m really relying on you to be the expert.” 

“This is a bit outside my area, but you know, there is this wonderful thing called the internet.”

Aziraphale wriggled his nose and managed to look condescending while taking a sip of tea. “I prefer my books, if you please.” 

Although Aziraphale owned a computer, he hardly used it for more than a few tasks to be completed every year. Crowley managed to convince him to keep his sales record on it hoping that he would become more comfortable with technology, but Aziraphale actually sold so few books that he only updated it every few months, then promptly ignored the old machine until next time. 

“Sure, I’ll see what I can find and we’ll figure something out.” 

There was a moment of silence that passed between the two. Aziraphale focused on his cup of tea, and Crowley focused on trying to comfort the tortoise.

“You know that she can’t stay forever, right?” Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s knee, the lightest touch almost as if wanting to comfort him in the same manner he was doing for the animal, but there was hesitation before the touch was gone. “She can stay until she’s recovered, then after that we need to find a more permanent home. A bookshop is not the best environment for her.”

Crowley nodded. “I know. Could we not talk about it now?”

Aziraphale agreed, and then sat in silence in the bookshop. Crowley tried to ease the poor animal from her shell, telling her comforting praises before he ended up having to leave late that night. 

XXXXX

Once Crowley had left, Aziraphale paced back and forth in the front of the shop. He searched as much as possible for any books on tortoises he had hidden in the shop, but didn’t find much. Instead he resorted to a miracle to conjure up a whole stack of books that could help, heaven be damned if they were going to talk about frivolity in this case. 

The first thing he did was turn the temperature of the shop up to try and make it as comfortable as possible. Luckily Aziraphale didn’t mind how warm the shop was; his corporation didn’t need to experience normal human sensations unless he wanted it to. He just wanted to make the shop feel as much as home as possible for the tortoise. The poor dear looked so frightened. It broke Aziraphale's heart to see her like this. 

While researching about her species, Aziraphale also miracled up a large dish that was filled with fruits and vegetation. When she felt safe enough to venture out of the blanket, it would be waiting for her.

In the meantime, Aziraphale fretted. Usually he could see the good in people but there were just times where he questioned the cruelty of humans. In the past Aziraphale would have assumed it to be a demon who would have done something like this, but over the six millenia on Earth he learned that more often than not it was humans who evoked the worst atrocities on the planet.

When Aziraphale finally went to the backroom to check up on the animal, he could see her shuffling little by little towards the food dish. The blanket was still draped over her, but she managed to push herself in small increments trying to find the source of the food smell. She must have been hungry. 

Aziraphale lifted the blanket, and she retreated into her shell as fast as possible. As much as the blanket was a source of protection‒ at least probably in her mind‒ it would only get in the way if she tried to eat from the dish. Aziraphale removed it, and waited off to the side, trying hard as possible not to move lest it frighten her again.

“It's alright, darling. I know that everything is confusing but you are safe here. I assure you.” 

Obviously she couldn’t understand what Aziraphale had said, but the tone must have been soothing. Slowly she eased out of her shell and crawled closer to the food. She started to munch as much as possible, devouring the vegetation in the bowl. 

“There you are. I knew you must have been hungry.” Aziraphale carefully walked to his chair and sat down, watching as she continued to eat. “You’ll be fine. Crowley is right: we’ll take care of you.”

He couldn’t help but smile when she tried to take a bite of a cantaloupe but it rolled away. Thus began the slowest chase that Aziraphale had the pleasure to watch. She had to shuffle a few steps forward and stretched out her neck as much as possible. Unfortunately just as she clamped down on the fruit, it rolled away again. This happened twice more before she was successful and broke open the fruit and happily ate as much as she could.

“You know, I met Darwin before his infamous voyage.” Aziraphale spoke to the animal as if she could actually understand him. There must have been something about his tone which soothed her since she continued to feast. “He was just out of college, if I remember correctly, full of such scientific inquiry. It’s always so delightful to see that curiosity in the world, and he was so determined that the voyage would yield new and exciting information. He was right, of course.”

The tortoise finished up what was left in her bowl before making her way back to the blanket that sat on the floor. She used her nose to rearrange it as much as possible to make a bed. 

“Now I feel like I need something to call you while you are in this shop.” Aziraphale thought back to the time he had a chance to be this up close with a tortoise before. It was just after Darwin returned from his trip; Darwin had brought one home as a pet and Aziraphale managed to visit them while they were in England. People wanted to see the exotic animal, but he was very good at keeping most away. When Darwin passed, he left a friend in charge of taking her the tortoise to find a home. Aziraphale didn’t get a chance to see the animal again before she was gone. She lived for many years in a sanctuary, and was happy as could be. That was what Aziraphale wanted for this tortoise in front of him. He knew the perfect name. “I’ll call you Charles after Darwin himself. Is that a good name?”

Charles didn’t answer. She only wiggled into the blanket as much as possible before closing her eyes. Hopefully she would get a restful night’s sleep. Aziraphale would watch over her. 

The black markings of paint weren’t very bright in the dim light of the shop. Obviously it must have meant something but Aziraphale had no idea what. Aziraphale could easily miracle it away, but thought that perhaps Charles may enjoy a soothing bath. He would have to try that tomorrow when she was rested. 

XXXXX

Aziraphale didn’t sleep. His corporation didn’t require it, but it also didn’t need food either and Aziraphale enjoyed that plenty enough. If he really wanted to, Aziraphale could sleep‒ after all, Crowley did on pretty much a nightly basis‒ but he never found a reason to. Most times when he tried it felt awkward laying in bed trying to tune out the noises of the world and quiet his mind. Instead, most nights consisted of reading his books. 

This night, however, he couldn’t concentrate. His eyes kept drifting over to Charles, sleeping soundly.

Never in his six thousand years on Earth did Aziraphale ever expect that he would be taking care of another creature. It had always been just him, sometimes Crowley, but mostly he was on his own on Earth. The lives of animals were always rather short, even compared to a human lifespan, so Aziraphale never felt the need to be attached to anything. 

But Crowley, he had his plants and he always seemed to make friends and connections anywhere on Earth‒ something that Aziraphale felt incapable of doing. He cared so much for others, even if he would never admit it, and he knew that Crowley was already so attached to this animal. So Aziraphale would help as much as possible, if only to make Crowley happy. 

So Aziraphale placed some pillows around the tortoise to try and make the floor feel as comfortable as possible, and left her to the backroom. Perhaps if Aziraphale tried to read out of sight of Charles he could have better luck concentrating. He retreated to the flat upstairs, something he so rarely used outside of preparing tea in the kitchen. 

There was a small sitting room that was furnished with some old worn-down chairs and an antique heater that probably hadn’t worked in a few decades, but Aziraphale wasn’t bothered by that fact. When he turned it on, the relic powered to life, making a rumbling noise that would have woken any neighbors but he didn’t have any to worry about. He spent the next few hours until morning reading through all the information about how to take care of a tortoise. 

When he eventually finished the books, the sun was just starting to appear over the horizon, washing the room in a golden glow of the early morning. 

As Aziraphale stretched, he wondered what he should have for breakfast. Perhaps something vegetarian in solidarity with Charles, or perhaps a nice pastry or two. He would figure it out later, but for now he wanted to check in on how his guest fared the remainder of the night without him. 

He was not expecting to see the backroom littered with a white fluffy material. It took longer than he would have admitted to figure out that it was remnants of his pillow that he gave to Charles last night before heading upstairs. 

“What happened?” He looked around the room in disbelief. “Charles, what did you do?”

There was a large mound that was covered in cotton and strips of fabric, on hearing Aziraphale’s voice, that mound started to move. Charles poked her head out of the corpse of what used to be pillows and started to crawl over to the food dish, which Aziraphale left in place from the previous night.

“Honestly, dear, if the bedding was inadequate you could have said something. There is really no need to tear apart my belongings.” With a snap of his fingers, the pillows returned to the couch where they usually sat, not a mark on them. 

Charles didn’t respond; it didn’t even look like she noticed anything out of the ordinary. Instead, she waited in front of her dish, almost like she knew that Aziraphale was the provider of food and upon seeing him the dish would be filled up again. 

Of course, Aziraphale acquiesced and the dish was once again piled high with vegetables and fruits that she would enjoy. 

Without hesitation, Charles tucked into her food straight away. Aziraphale thought she had the right idea and within a couple of minutes he sat in his usual chair with a cup of tea and some delectable pastries from the bakery down the street. The two ate their meals in relative silence, Aziraphale thumbing through one of the books he had miracled earlier and Charles devouring some strawberries, juices covering most of her mouth. 

“You really need to learn some proper manners.” Aziraphale smiled but the tortoise was unfazed. “I was thinking today, we could go to the flat and attempt to give you a bath. Try and get some of the paint off of you, and I’m a firm believer in a bath to soothe oneself, anyway.”

In response, Charles continued to eat, ignoring anything Aziraphale said. 

“Right, well, I suppose we could try. It says here to let you soak for about fifteen minutes, then I can replace the water and scrub you down.” 

Before the tortoise could react, Aziraphale got up from his chair and easily plucked her off the ground. Obviously she wasn’t used to being handled as such, since she retracted her head as quickly as possible. Her arms and legs moved as if she was trying to make a get away, but to no avail. 

Aziraphale carried her up the stairs and into the bathroom. It was lucky for her that Aziraphale enjoyed many of the pleasures that life on Earth had to offer; one such pleasure was indulging in luxurious baths on occasion. The tub in this room was a large clawfoot tub that was deep enough for a grown man, and obviously large enough for a young tortoise. 

Just as the book said, Aziraphale filled the tub with water just enough to reach her shell. He waited the appropriate amount of time, letting her soak and sate her thirst before he drained it and refilled with fresh water to scrub her down. He took this moment to remove his jacket and roll up his shirt sleeves to hopefully keep them dry. 

Aziraphale miracled a soft brush and got to work trying to remove the paint that covered a large portion of her shell. It looked as if Charles was enjoying it, her eyes closed, and Aziraphale could have sworn he saw a little reptilian smile on her face, although that would be very much impossible.

Too busy paying attention to removing the paint, which must have been on her shell for quite a while since it refused to come off completely, Aziraphale didn’t notice when the water changed from a nice warm temperature to something considerably cooler. He only realized this when Charles apparently had enough of Aziraphale’s scrubbing and tried to crawl out of the tub on her own. 

Unfortunately, the polished porcelain was much too slick for her feet and she just fell back into the water, splashing it over Aziraphale’s waistcoat and shirt. 

“Really?” Aziraphale chided. “You could have said you were done; no need to make a mess.” 

There was no use trying to clean himself up at this point. Instead, he drained the bath, removed Charles from it, and brought her downstairs to dry her off. 

Even with all his angelic strength, Aziraphale was getting a bit winded carrying her up and down the stairs. He thought that perhaps it would be easier to have something downstairs for her. But that was getting a bit too presumptuous; Charles wasn’t going to be a permanent part of the bookshop. Crowley said he was going to find a place that could take care of her, so Aziraphale only needed to watch her until then. No need to get attached or anything. 

It took a bit of effort to dry off Charles as she attempted to continuously get out of Aziraphale’s grip to reach her food dish, the remains of breakfast strewn about the floor. After Aziraphale managed to get her into a state that he deemed acceptable, Charles moved as fast as she possibly could to finish off the rest of her food. 

He watched her eat, noting that the paint marks on her shell were almost completely gone. There was a satisfied feeling that came over Aziraphale. The state that this young animal had come in yesterday was absolutely heartbreaking and to see her come out of her shell‒ both literally and metaphorically‒ was reassuring. Hopefully they would be able to find a good home for her soon.

While Charles was occupied, Aziraphale gathered as many old blankets and pillows as he could find to create a bed for her, someplace warm that she could nap. According to his research, tortoises spent a long portion of the day sleeping‒ same with Crowley, if he had the choice‒ must be a reptilian trait.

Sure enough, as soon as her food was gone, Charles made her way to the makeshift bed that Aziraphale constructed. Trying her hardest to move the blankets and pillows to be more comfortable, she buried herself as much as possible in the pile of tartan.

“Angel?” The bell over the front door chimed.

“Back here,” Aziraphale answered. Hopefully Crowley had figured out what they should do next.

Crowley looked as if he hadn’t gotten any rest since he left the shop last night. His usually styled hair was a disarray and his face seemed to be etched into a permanent scowl rather than his normal charming smile.

“So glad you are here,” Aziraphale smiled and could see Crowley visibly relax a touch, shoulders sagging in relief when he saw the pile of bedding arranged artfully around the tortoise. “Charles has been very lively this morning. I think she is doing better.” 

“Good. Listen, angel… wait, Charles? Who’s Charles?” Crowley’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“The tortoise. I didn’t think it was proper for her not to have a name.” 

“And of all the names that exist in the world, you picked Charles?”

“I thought it was very fitting,” Aziraphale responded in a short tone.

“Fitting for what? She’s a tortoise.” Crowley ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“What would you have called her?”

“I don’t know. Shelly?”

“Your wit never ceases to amaze me.” Aziraphale shot him a flat look. 

“At least make it less formal. It’s not like she’s some Victorian scholar.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness that he couldn’t help but show. “Anyway, what did you need to talk to me about?”

“Right.” It took a moment for Crowley’s brain to catch back up with the conversation. “Right, so I got some information about where we got the tortoise-”

“Charles.”

Crowley scowled and shook his head. “Yeah, well, she was taken young from a zoo apparently. She’s bounced around a few homes. Not sure what this last guy had planned for her but I don’t think it was good.”

“Well, luckily you were there to rescue her.” Aziraphale reached out and placed his hand on Crowley’s arm. It was a familiar gesture that had taken a few millennia to work up towards. 

Although they had developed a close relationship‒ well, as close as hereditary enemies could be‒ there was very little physical touching between them. Perhaps a touch of hands when exchanging wine glasses, bumping shoulders strolling through the park, or even the one time Crowley fell asleep on the couch with his legs brushing against Aziraphale’s. But comforting Crowley was something almost new. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley would be opposed to this gesture, but he didn’t make a move to brush off his hand. 

“The guy’s been taken care of. But I’m not sure what to do with her.” 

“We can figure it out.” Aziraphale gave Crowley a reassuring squeeze on his arm before a thought struck him. “What do you mean that he’s been taken care of?” 

Crowley looked away from him. “You probably don’t want to know.”

Oh. Something relating to Hell, no doubt. Best if Aziraphale didn't bring it up again. He knew how much Crowley didn’t really enjoy his duties, although he would never say it out loud where anyone from either side could potentially hear. 

“So, what’s next, then?” Aziraphale ventured to ask when silence started to creep in.

“It would be nice to find a more permanent home for her. Can’t have her living in a bookshop forever.”

“I suppose we could reach out to the London Zoo.” 

“Yeah.” Crowley sounded a bit distracted. His eyes were trained on Charles again; even with his dark sunglasses Aziraphale could see that. “She’s just been in a cage so long that I want to make sure she goes to a good home. Gotta check it out first to see if it's good enough.” 

“Anything you want, my dear.” Aziraphale spoke with such sincerity. 

They made arrangements that Crowley would visit the Zoo the following day to see if would be a good choice for her. 

XXXXX

“How heavy are these bookshelves, angel?” Crowley collapsed onto the floor, arms and legs spread out like a starfish, albeit a very tired one.

“I told you to remove the books first.” Aziraphale lectured, making Crowley roll his eyes. After seeing Aziraphale move one shelf, books and all, Crowley was certain he could do the same‒ after all, angels and demons were the same stock. Anything Aziraphale did, Crowley could certainly do better. Evidently he was wrong.

With the two of them occupying the same space, they figured it would have to be a no miracle night. Which wasn’t fair considering that Aziraphale wanted them to create some type of enclosure for Charles. 

Nope, Crowley was not going to call the poor tortoise that. She was going to get teased by all the bigger meaner tortoises… tortoise? No, it's got to be tortoises. He would never condemn her to such a life of mockery, no matter how much Aziraphale liked that blasted name. 

“Charlie,” Crowley said without moving from the ground. The two shelves that lined the wall in the backroom were moved to the opposite wall, and all the other furniture was rearranged enough for them to make some type of fenced area for her to stay for a few days. 

“Beg pardon?”

“I’ll call her Charlie.” He managed to sit up enough to see Aziraphale smile kindly at him, and he would never admit how the smile made his stomach knot. “It suits her much better.” 

“Whatever you wish, dear.” Even though he knew Aziraphale said that to be polite, those words hit him harder than they should have. There was so much he wished of Aziraphale, and of course he‒ they‒ would never be allowed to have it. Every ounce of friendship that Aziraphale gave, Crowley eagerly grabbed a hold of, knowing that it would all have to unravel one day leaving behind nothing but guilt and shame. 

Forcing himself from these thoughts, he refocused on the task at hand. They needed to be here for Charlie, and that was the only thing that Crowley should be focused on. 

“You know she can’t stay here forever, angel.” 

Aziraphale, who was in the middle of creating a bed made out of hay at one end of the enclosure paused and looked back towards Crowley.

“Obviously she can’t, but that doesn’t mean that she should be uncomfortable while she does remain here.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know but it just looks like you are starting to get a bit attached.”

“I am no such thing. Just because I would like Charles to be happy while she’s here doesn’t mean I won’t allow her to leave when the time comes.”

Crowley wasn’t completely convinced but decided to yield anyway. 

“Speaking of. Where is Charlie?”

At that moment Aziraphale’s eyes darted around the room trying to see if a giant reptile was hiding somewhere in plain sight, which obviously wasn’t.

“I thought you were keeping track of her.” Aziraphale dropped the rest of the hay in his hands and rushed out of the room nearly frantic trying to find Charlie. 

“Me?” Crowley forced himself up from the floor and joined Aziraphale in his search. “Why was I supposa look after her?”

“Because!” Aziraphale snapped in exasperation. Moving as quickly as possible, he checked behind every bookshelf and table he could see. Crowley trailed after him, hoping that she was just curled up somewhere sleeping and not getting into trouble.

“You don’t think she got out of the shop, do you?” Aziraphale was sounding nearly desperate as he continued his tour of the shop, trying to find where the blasted tortoise was hidden.

“How?” Crowley walked down one of the aisle of books and started to search in the very back. “She doesn’t have opposable thumbs, how would she open the door… how would she even reach the door?”

Before Aziraphale had a chance to respond, Crowley spotted Charlie. Without either realizing it, she had made her way to the very back of the shop. There were books lying along the ground which she very obviously must have found a way to push off the bottom shelf in order to make room for herself. 

Somehow she had completely ignored the laws of object permanence and managed to crawl into the bottom shelf, almost like she had declared it to be her new home. Unfortunately, the laws of physics caught up with the reckless tortoise and it looked like her shell was wedged into the bookshelf. 

“Found her!” Crowley shouted over his shoulder before bending down to try and remove her from the predicament she had gotten herself into. 

“Oh, good lord,” Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief. “How did you manage to get yourself in there?”

Working together, they managed to get her out of the shelf and back on her own feet. Crowley could have sworn there was a mischievous smirk on her face, but biologically speaking, that was impossible. Without being asked to, Crowley picked up the books and replaced them on the shelf while Aziraphale busied himself by walking Charlie back to where her enclosure was nearly set up. 

Crowley did find it very peculiar that Aziraphale wasn’t upset about his books being tossed to the floor by the tortoise. He knew for certain that if he dropped a book on the floor there would be no end to the lecture he would receive from Aziraphale. But if Charlie knocked over a whole self, apparently that didn’t matter.

Hopefully Aziraphale would stay true to his word and be able to let her leave when they eventually found a place for her. 

Once all the books were replaced, Crowley joined Aziraphale in the back room. He held a plate of strawberries in one hand and was using them to coax Charlie into entering the new enclosure they had set up. 

It wasn’t anything too impressive, in Crowley's opinion, but given the fact that they weren’t using miracles, it was the best they probably could do. It took up the entire length of the backroom. One end had a pile of hay that Aziraphale insisted would make a wonderful bed, and serve as a snack in case she got peckish overnight. Towels and blankets lined the floor as a way to keep her warm against the poor insulation of the shop floors. Crowley even set up a small plastic pool at the other end so she could crawl in and soak in the water, although he had purposefully not informed Aziraphale how much of a mess the water would probably make.

The whole thing was encased with a small fence to try and keep her somewhat penned up when they couldn’t keep an eye on her, which she had proven necessary tonight. 

The bookshelves that once filled that area were pushed to the other side, making the back room far more cramped than it had ever been. Luckily there still seemed to be enough room for Aziraphale’s desk, so he was happy that he could continue to work without having to leave her alone for too long.

Charlie slowly reached her head out and chomped down on the fruit in Aziraphale’s hand; this motion made her move another step inside the enclosure. 

“What a good girl you are!” There was a gentle smile on Aziraphale’s face that made Crowley’s stomach twist nervously. It was the same smile that Aziraphale often gave him when Crowley did something particularly nice while denying he ever did anything nice at all. One that Crowley did everything in his power to see over and over again. 

For every step Charlie took, she received another strawberry and a smile. Crowley watched the scene with a warmth in his heart that he would adamantly deny feeling. In the back of his mind he wondered if this was how Aziraphale was around Warlock.

In the few years they had been working at the Dowling residence, Crowley hadn’t seen much of Aziraphale. Most days he might catch a glimpse of him out in the gardens; when he took a walk with Warlock, they usually found a moment to talk. But other than that, moments with Aziraphale were too few and far between. Although not as far as in between anymore with the end of the world approaching in a few years.

Once Charlie was finally settled into her new home, Aziraphale closed the fence as best as possible to keep her from roaming around. She munched happily on the strawberries placed on the floor.

“We should probably start trying to figure out some place that could take her in.”

“That would probably be best.” Aziraphale stood watching Charlie in her pen. “Once the Dowlings return from vacation, we won’t have the time to spend with her, and I worry about leaving her on her own.” 

“I’ll keep looking into a few places.” 

Silence stretched on as they both watched Charlie finish up her snack before exploring the rest of the area. Neither had anything else to say, but Crowley didn’t want to leave quite yet. Instead they decided to open a bottle of wine and enjoy each other’s company. They didn’t even notice when Charlie buried herself under the pile of hay and fell asleep.

XXXXX

A few days passed with no sign of Crowley. Aziraphale knew he was just busy trying to find a place for Charles, but he was a bit irritated that there wasn’t even an attempt of contact, even just to let him know what places he was looking at, or if he was all right. Hell wouldn’t be very happy if they discovered that Crowley saved an innocent animal, but there had been no repercussions thus far, so Aziraphale thought they were in the clear. Now he was starting to fret that perhaps Hell had gotten wind of what Crowley did. Maybe the reason he hadn’t made contact with Aziraphale was because he couldn’t. 

That was such an unlikely scenario; even if something happened to Crowley, he would still find a way to contact Aziraphale. More than likely he was just so wrapped up in whatever he was doing that he lost track of time and forgot to call. 

In the meantime Aziraphale discovered that Charles had quite the destructive tendency. Twice he had left her alone for no more than an hour before she found a way to bulldoze over the fence that was supposed to keep in her place. She managed to make a mess out of every blanket and towel in her pen, and on one occasion bumped against a side table with enough force to knock the books on top straight to the floor. 

The only customer who was in at the time must have not seen what caused it and scurried out the door as fast as humanly possible while muttering something about the place being haunted. 

Aziraphale was not going to complain about that outcome.

While trying to distract himself from worrying too much about Crowley’s lack of correspondence, Aziraphale made himself a cup of tea. Today he decided to opt for a calming jasmine to help sooth his thoughts.

Even just the smell of it already started to make him feel better. He knew that Crowley would reach out as soon as he had information, Aziraphale shouldn’t worry. But still, in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but pray that Crowley was fine. 

Sitting down at his desk, Aziraphale focused on the cup of tea, not drinking it just yet, but just watching the patterns of swirls in the liquid. He knew that he worried so much because he cared about Crowley so deeply. They had known each other for 6,000 years; of course it was natural they would become close. But what Aziraphale felt for Crowley was so much more than that. It had been years since he had made the discovery of his feeling for Crowley. That night he saved the books in 1941, Aziraphale realized how much he was in love with Crowley. 

Of course, he knew for years‒ if not millennia‒ before that. But it was always something he could reason with himself as something one-sided. He was a being of love; it would only make sense for him to fall in love so easily. But before that night at the church, Aziraphale could easily trick himself into believing that Crowley would never feel the same. It was obvious he cared about Aziraphale a great deal, but he could never truly love him. But then, he selflessly waltzed into that church and not only saved him, but saved the books Aziraphale didn’t even think about in the moment. 

The years after were harder than anything before. Knowing how much Crowley really cared for him made the distance between them that much more difficult to bear.

After a moment, Aziraphale was pulled back from his thoughts by a soft scratching noise. It seemed like Charles was up and awake already. 

“Good morning, dear,” he called as he miracled up a fresh bowl of food for her. “Did you sleep well?” 

In lieu of an answer, Charles made a beeline straight for her dish. Aziraphale refilled her small pool while she was enjoying breakfast. Even though she seemed to love that thing, Aziraphale really wished that she didn’t accidentally knock it over every time she crawled out. It was getting all too tiresome cleaning up the spilled water. 

“You are absolutely right, breakfast sounds positively scrummy right now. While you eat, I’m just going to pop over to the bakery down the street. I’ll be back in two shakes, so make sure to behave.” 

Realistically he knew that Charles had no way of actually comprehending what he was saying, but it was nice to have someone around the shop to talk to. Over the past few days he started to feel much more at ease around her and it seems like she was just as comfortable around him. She had started to show the bright colors of her personality. It was hard imagining how the shop would return to normal without her. 

It seemed like a lonely future. 

By the time that Aziraphale returned with some fresh baked pastries, Charles had eventently managed to ignore his plea and gotten herself into trouble. The books on one of the tables in the back room had been knocked over. Aziraphale was certain that Charles had no clue how big she actually was, so when she used furniture to try and scratch her shell, the furniture would lose the battle and fall over. 

He placed his box of pastries down on a table that was still standing upright and walked to the back room. Her fence was flattened, the food dish upside down with a trail of vegetables leading towards his desk. Finally his eyes landed on Charles, who had somehow managed to open one of the fallen books and was happily munching on the pages.

“What on Earth are you doing?” Aziraphale gasped when he noticed she had already devoured a few pages. As quick as possible, he snapped the book up before she could get another page. “That is a first edition _Lord of the Flies_.” He looked distastefully at the mutilated book in his hand then back down at the tortoise. 

Charles just looked at him, waiting patiently to be hand fed. Aziraphale couldn’t really stay mad at her, plus he wasn’t much of a fan of the book to begin with. Too much violence for a story about young children. Obviously she was just looking for something different, or perhaps she had a bit too much energy. Maybe spending some time outside the shop would be good for her. 

“How about we take a trip to the park today?”

He never received a response but Charles did slowly follow him about as he packed up some lunch for them.

XXXXX

Crowley sighed as he slid out of the Bentley. His nerves couldn’t handle any more panic attacks today. When he arrived at the shop and found it to be complete empty, he damn near tore the place apart. His hands shook as he shouted Aziraphale and Charlie’s names but received no response. 

At first he thought that Hell had discovered what he had done and somehow figured out that Aziraphale was keeping the tortoise safe. Images of Aziraphale being tortured by some demon filled his mind. All Crowley could do was blame himself and start preparing for how he was going to save Aziraphale. 

Luckily he found a note left at the shop saying Aziraphale had taken Charlie to St. James Park. Relief washed over Crowley instantly and he drove to the park in record time‒ a record that was surprisingly short anyway and couldn’t possibly be beaten without demonic intervention.

It only took a moment for Crowley to find Aziraphale. There was a small gathering of children huddled around on the pathway.A few of them were asking questions in rapid fire succession, although Crowley couldn’t hear what was being asked. 

Somehow he managed to find his way to the front where he saw Aziraphale talking with those kids while dragging a bundle of kale on a string. Charlie was trying her hardest to eat the kale, but every step she took forward Aziraphale would take a step back and it would be just out of reach.

“Angel, what are you doing?”

“Crowley!” When Aziraphale looked up, his face broke out in that kind smile that made Crowley’s heart clench. He would give anything for Aziraphale to always smile like that. “Thank you all for your, um, interesting and invasive questions about Charles. But my friend just arrived and we have some business to discuss.”

With only the minimal amount of grumbling, the kids said their goodbyes and left, presumably back to what they were doing before spotting someone taking a tortoise for a walk in the middle of the day. 

“I was so worried about you. Why did you disappear like that?”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Crowley shrugged as Aziraphale continued to slowly walk, temping Charlie to keep following with that kale on a string. “I was just looking into some good places for Charlie.” 

“Find anything?”

“Checked out a few zoos but they all seem to be full up. I don’t want to put her in a place where she wouldn’t be happy.” 

“I understand.” Aziraphale guided them towards the grass where a red and white checkered blanket lay out under a nearby tree. “So what do we do now?”

“I’ve still got a few places in mind, but that means you may need to hang onto her for a bit longer.” 

“I don’t think that would be an issue at all.” Once they reached the blanket, Aziraphale picked up the kale and removed the string. He sat down and started to feed her the kale, one large leaf at a time. Since he wasn’t sure what to do, Crowley sat on the blanket next to Aziraphale.

Without thinking, Crowley picked up one leaf of kale and held it out to Charlie who took a bite with no hesitation. 

“She seems to be adjusting well.”

“Indeed, although she managed to make a snack out of one of my books this morning.”

“She _what_?” Crowley threw his head back and laughed. “Angel, I’ve seen you kick people out of your shops for just looking at your books wrong. And yet she can eat one and you take her out to the park.” 

“Yes, well. Customers are one thing, obviously they know how to treat books. Charles is just a tortoise, she doesn’t know any better.”

“You are… What do people say nowadays? Whipped?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and allowed for Charles to roam around grazing to her heart's content. “She could probably get away with murder.”

“I hardly think that she could be capable of such a thing.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t think she would eat one of your books but here we are.” Crowley leaned back on his elbows, legs splayed on the blanket. His eyes tracked Aziraphale who seemed to relax a bit while still watching Charles, just in case. But there wasn’t much trouble she would be able to get into in a field of grass.

“Would you like something to eat?” Aziraphale reached into the basket he brought and pulled out a couple of containers with various cheeses, crackers, and fruits. Although Crowley wasn’t much into actually eating, he managed a few pieces while he listened to Aziraphale excitedly recap the last few days with a tortoise that apparently decided to behave just like Crowley. 

Over the course of the few hours they spent at the park, Aziraphale took him every little detail about Charlie’s time at the shop, and they managed to debate which book would actually be better for her to have eaten. While Crowley argued that the biggest book in the shop would be fine, Aziraphale insisted that it should be something with substance. Something that would leave her satisfied. In the end they agreed that Don Quixote probably hit the mark in both those categories. 

“So, where did you learn that trick?” Crowley took a sip out of his wine glass which had been poured sometime during their conversation. 

“What trick?”

“The one with the string.”

“I saw something on the internets about it.” Aziraphale replied with surprising confidence.

“How did you get on the internet?”

“For your information, I do own a computer.”

“Yeah, but it still runs Windows 95.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Aziraphale snapped haughtily. “When I ran out of books at the shop, I decided to look on the computer and I found all sorts of helpful information.” 

At that moment Charlie managed to make her way in between the two of them and settle on the blanket. Aziraphale ran his hand over her shell in a soothing pattern that made Crowley wish he could feel those fingers tangle into his hand and brush away all his anxiety. 

“Welcome to the modern world, then.” In an effort to distract himself, Crowley picked up a piece of kiwi fruit and held it out towards her. Charlie took the bait and chomped down, eating messily and dropping bits onto the blanket. Without warning, she reached out again and tried to take a bite out of Crowley’s fingers. “Watch it.” 

Quickly he retracted his hand out of harm's way.

“What’d she do that for?” 

Aziraphale shook his head. He took Crowley’s fingers in his own hand and examined where she bit him. The contact point from where their hands met was electrifying. Years before casual touch was something expected in society, and they would often walk arm and arm together, or be able to freely touch each other as friends did. But that had fallen out of fashion and Crowley craved to feel Aziraphale again, but was never brave enough to initiate contact.

“Are you all right, my dear?” He looked at the mark, which really didn’t hurt at all. It was just unexpected. 

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“I think I understand.” Aziraphale smiled knowingly as he rubbed his thumb across Crowley’s nails, which were painted bright red. “It's the color.” 

“Something wrong with my nails?” Crowley teased. He fully knew that Aziraphale would have no such issues with his painted nails; truthfully, Aziraphale spent more time at a nail salon than he did.

“Not at all, she must have thought it was food or something.” There seemed to be a moment of decision making before he continued. “I think this color is very beautiful on you.”

Crowley could feel his face heat up instantly. Doubt filled his mind that Aziraphale didn’t actually mean what he said, but the way he was looking at Crowley made him believe every word. There was such a sincerity in his voice, but at the same time worry was laced underneath. As if he would do anything that would hurt Aziraphale.

“Thanks,” was all Crowley managed to squeak out.

Although Crowley should have removed his hand, he found he really didn’t want to. So they sat on the blanket, drinking their wine, with one hand cradled together as Charlie fell asleep between them. 

Crowley wondered if this was what having a family felt like. 

XXXXX

The more time that Aziraphale spent with Charles, the more he absolutely loved her. They would often spend all morning happily eating breakfast together, then go for a walk around the neighborhood‒ which resulted in many people staring or stopping to ask questions. Any time there was a small child, they wanted nothing more than to pet her, while she seemed to preen under the attention she received. After the walk, which always took time between Charles wanting to graze on every patch of grass she could find and being a naturally slow walker, they would take lunch together in the shop. Aziraphale would read a book aloud while Charles took a nap in the perfect beam of sunlight that filtered inside. 

Crowley would join them for dinner and give an update on any of the places he looked into that could potentially take a tortoise. So far nothing seemed to be up to his standard. Either the place wasn’t big enough for her‒ which didn’t make sense, considering any place would be larger than the bookshop‒ or wasn’t as knowledgeable as they should have been, which he worried meant she wouldn’t have adequate care. On one occasion he claimed that the other tortoises looked mean and he didn’t want her to be bullied. 

It started to feel like they were just finding excuses to keep her longer, but as the days dragged on they knew they would have to return to the Dowling residence soon. That would mean less time they could spend at the shop, and therefore Charles would have to be on her own more often. Not an ideal situation since she tended to be more destructive the longer she spent on her own. 

As much as Aziraphale would love to have her around, it looked as if they would have to find a place for her rather soon.

It was three weeks since Charles had arrived at the bookshop and burrowed her way into Aziraphale’s life. Dinner had been served and cleared away, and it was well into the evening. Crowley was sprawled on some cushions on the floor, petting Charles as she settled down next to him. He had finished up feeding her bits of dinner; she seemed to nip at his fingers almost as much as she did the food. Aziraphale laughed when Crowley grumbled about it, pointing out that the beautiful emerald green color of his nails today must have looked too similar to the collard greens he was feeding her. As she placed her head into his lap and started to drift off, Crowley finally spoke up. 

“I think I found the place for her.” His voice was quiet, as if trying not to disturb her sleep. 

“Oh? Something finally meets your standards?” Aziraphale teased, but he was actually happy that Crowley had spent so much time and effort finding a place that was good enough. 

They never did figure out why she had ended up where Crowley found her, or what had happened to her before. But it was obvious her life before wasn’t the best and she truly deserved happiness. 

“Yeah, it's a place on Isla Santa Cruz in the Galapagos. She should be well taken care of there.”

“Good.” Aziraphale looked down at Charles, who had fallen asleep with her head resting on Crowley’s lap. Although he was pleased that she was going to a place that would be perfect for her, his heart still felt heavy. The brief time that she was here he allowed himself to become attached and ingrained her into his life in a way that had never happened before with another animal.

He also didn’t want to admit that without Charles around, Crowley’s visits wouldn’t be as consistent anymore.

It was almost as if they made a little family in this bookshop. But of course it wasn’t meant to last, not with the apocalypse on the horizon. They were made to be on opposite sides. The fates would never allow them to remain together‒ no matter how much Aziraphale wished for it. Perhaps in another lifetime they could actually stay together. 

Best not to linger on those thoughts. 

“They’ve already said they could take her in.” Crowley continued trailing his fingers across Charles’ shell.

“That’s wonderful news, dear.” Even though he managed to smile, Aziraphale could feel how strained it was. There would be no doubt that Crowley could see through it. “When does she leave?”

“Tomorrow.” 

It felt almost as if ice ran through his veins. He knew that she would have to leave eventually, but he didn’t think it would be so soon. Tonight really was the last night to hold onto this illusion of family. 

“I see.” Aziraphale sat in his armchair and watched the scene before him. The entire backroom of the shop was uprooted and rearranged for Charles; how could he possibly go back to how it was before? There would always be a coldness about the place after this, he already knew. But it was the right thing to do, and no matter how much Aziraphale wanted to cling onto her and Crowley, he had to let go. “How…”

“I’ll take her to the airport. They’ll meet me there. This time tomorrow she should be settled into her new home.”

“Would it be all right if I went with you?” Aziraphale ventured to ask.

“Angel, you really don’t have to. I know this is going to be difficult and-”

“I know,” Aziraphale cut him off. “But I want to. I should at least be able to say goodbye before she leaves.” 

“First thing in the morning, we’ll take her together.”

There was a stillness that settled about the shop. The only sounds were the street noise that drifted in gently. Aziraphale continued to watch as Crowley stroked his hand across Charles’ shell, murmuring soft compliments that Aziraphale was certain he wasn’t supposed to hear. 

Watching Crowley interact with her in such a sweet manner made Aziraphale feel like nothing else mattered in the world. Life continued on outside these four walls of the shop, and it would continue tomorrow when Charles was gone, but now it was as if everything stood still. Time ceased to be as Aziraphale felt like everything he loved was starting to slip through his grasp. No matter how hard he clutched, it was like sand. Falling apart one grain at a time. 

Since tonight was the very last night of them being all together, Aziraphale decided he didn’t want to be alone across the room. In just a few seconds he crossed the room and settled down on the floor next to Crowley. 

It was only a few seconds later that Aziraphale felt something on the hand that was resting on the floor. He looked over and could see Crowley’s fingers softly resting on his own. While the touch was soft, it felt very intimate, as if they both knew that something like this wasn’t going to happen again. Aziraphale didn’t bring any attention to it; instead he just shifted his hand so that their fingers twined together. Together they sat in silence as Charles happily slept between them. 

XXXXX

Time was a funny thing. Some years felt like they were over as soon as they began while others felt like they’d aged you about a century. The year of the apocalypse was one of those years in the latter category. 

Although both Crowley and Aziraphale had worked for eleven years to stop the apocalypse before it could start, so many events happened in the last few days leading up to it that Aziraphale was certain he was at least a century older by the time they stopped it. Although saying they were the ones that stopped it was a very loose interpretation of events. Really, it all came down to humanity saving the world.

The years that followed that, however, went by far too quickly.

With both Aziraphale and Crowley being free men‒ or at least men shaped beings‒ they spend nearly every moment together. Almost as if they were making up for lost time. They visited every restaurant the Aziraphale wanted to go to in London; every weekend was spent visiting farmers markets or antique shops; and they took vacations to some one the most beautiful places on Earth.

All in all, it was perfect. 

They eventually moved out to the South Downs and found a little cottage with a large enough room to be a library for Aziraphale‒ even though it was significantly smaller than the bookshop, he was still overjoyed at having a little place all his own that he wouldn’t have to chase customers away from. The garden in the back was perfect for Crowley; most days he would be elbow deep in dirt, pruning plants and shrubs that needed it. Aziraphale would often catch him taking a nap in the grass with the sun shining down on him, much like a reptile basking in the warmth. As much as he looked like a human, some of his reptilian traits were quite obvious. 

Every day seemed to be blissful and the years slipped by without either realizing it.

“Crowley, where are we going?” Aziraphale asked as he slipped out of the Bentley.

“I told you, angel, it's a surprise.” Crowley wore the most handsomely devilish smile. Pulled both travel bags out from the back of the car, one tartan-patterned that had seen better days and one a sleek black case that probably cost as much as the plane tickets that Crowley purchased. 

As a celebration of the five year anniversary of saving the world and starting their new life together, Crowley had announced that he was taking Aziraphale on a trip but wouldn’t say where. Instead he just gave Aziraphale a list of things he might need, which didn’t put Aziraphale at ease, but at least he knew that if he really needed it, he could miracle up anything that was forgotten. That morning they traveled to the airport, Aziraphale guessing their destination their entire time. 

Crowley insisted they should travel the human way for this trip, which took far too many hours in Aziraphale’s opinion, but he followed along with Crowley’s plan. They were able to check in quickly, producing the proper identification cards and passports that hadn’t existed before Crowley pulled them out his bag. Somehow even with all the people they had to talk to and hurdles to get to their gate, Aziraphale didn’t manage to hear where they were supposed to be flying to. He suspected that there was some demonic intervention at hand, but didn’t say anything.

The plane ride was slow and cramped, but Aziraphale has brought along a few good books. Between those and Crowley falling asleep on his arm, he was quite content with the travel arrangements. 

Soon enough the plane came to a rather bumpy landing and they exited to a small airport. Aziraphale could tell between the humidity and sun that they were somewhere tropical. 

Crowley was nearly vibrating in excitement as he entwined his fingers with Aziraphale and dragged him towards baggage claim. As they exited the airport, Aziraphale was greeted by the sight of two people, both probably somewhere in their twenties. One was a young man with shaggy brown hair pulled into a low ponytail while the other was a woman who radiated the confidence of an authority figure, her natural hair braided in two long strands. They wore matching polo shirts and the young man was holding a sign with Crowley’s name on it. 

“What on Earth is going on?” 

Instead of answering, Crowley just motioned from him to follow. 

“Elle and Clyde?” Crowley asked the pair, which only served to confuse Aziraphale even more.

“You must be Mr Crowley.” The young girl spoke with a thick accent that clearly sounded as if she previously lived in Bristol. “Glad to finally meet you in person.”

“Need help?” The man who Aziraphale determined must be Clyde asked in an obvious American accent. He allowed the young man to grab their bags and start to place them in the old car that was parked nearby. 

“So we can stop by the hotel to drop off your belongings,” Elle spoke up. “And if you’re feeling up to it, we can take you afterwards to see her.”

“See who?” Aziraphale was starting to get frustrated with all this cryptic nonsense. While he knew that Crowley was trying to be sweet and surprise him with something, it was getting to the point of being overkill. 

“You haven’t told him?” Clyde laughed as he closed the boot of the car. “Not gonna lie, that's pretty impressive you’ve kept it secret for so long.”

“Secret?” He looked at Crowley watching as he chewed on his lip worriedly. “What is going on? Who are we here to see?” 

“Charlie.” Crowley sighed, waiting to see what Aziraphale’s reaction would be. 

At hearing the name of the tortoise that they housed together, Aziraphale couldn’t hide the large smile that overtook his face. It had been years since they had to separate from her, and while he knew it was for the best, that didn’t make it any easier. For weeks after she was gone, he had worried about her safety. 

The traces of her in their life slowly disappear as he had to clear out the enclosure and replace everything in the bookshop as it once was. After they moved, the only reminder of her time with them was the half-eaten _Lord of the Flies_ book that sat on a prized spot on a bookshelf in Aziraphale’s library.

“Really?” He felt so hopefully at being given the opportunity to see her once more. 

Slowly Crowley gave a smile that seemed to match Aziraphale’s. He nodded his head.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve seen her and I thought it would make a good anniversary gift.” 

“My dear, you are so sweet.” Aziraphale reached out, allowing his hand to settle on Crowley’s cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too, angel.” Crowley leaned forward to give Aziraphale a tender kiss. 

Although it had been years since their confession, which happened not too long after the failed apocalypse, each time they shared a kiss Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel a radiating warmth of happiness. After all this time, they were finally allowed to be happy.

When they finally broke apart, Crowley gave him such a sappy look. Aziraphale had to refrain from making a teasing comment; he worried that if Crowley ever realized how besotted he looked then he would purposefully stop the expression. And Aziraphale didn't want that to happen.

They both got into the backseat of the car as Elle drove and Clyde prattled on about how well Charles had adjusted to life at the sanctuary. He mentioned that the timing for their visit was good since she just returned from laying her eggs.

Aziraphale commented on the fact that they were both grandparents now, and was pleased to see Crowley’s fond smile along with an exaggerated eye roll. It was something Aziraphale was all too familiar with by now, so those sunglasses Crowley always wore did nothing to hide his feelings anymore. 

By the time they checked into the hotel, dropped off their belongings, and got back into the car, the sun was starting to hang low in the sky. 

They arrived at the sanctuary. It wasn’t anything like Aziraphale had imagined. There was a large building that Elle explained was where they would take in new arrivals, test the health of different tortoises, or even house some young if needed. Their purpose was really to try and rehabilitate captive animals, as well as help increase the amount of tortoises on each of the islands. If there were any animals healthy enough to go back into the wild, they released them as needed. 

The only difference between this sanctuary and the wild was that anything that lived here was protected from poachers. It was all open spaces and the animals traveled and interacted with each other just like in the wild. Elle explained that they helped repopulate several islands already and hopefully these animals would no longer be endangered soon.

The four of them walked to a large open grass area where only a handful of trees dotted the landscape; underneath those trees were close to a dozen tortoises grazing. As much as Aziraphale hoped he could, there was just no telling which one was Charles. It had been so long since they had seen her, and she obviously had grown in that time.

Clyde pointed to one on the far right. 

“That’s Charlie.” 

“Are you sure?” Aziraphale didn’t mean to question the expert, but it was fairly impossible to tell between all these nearly identical animals.

“Yup, she’s super sweet but I don’t think I’ve worked with another tortoise with so much attitude. Don’t tell the others, but she’s my favorite.” 

The workers gave Aziraphale and Crowley a few fruits and vegetables and allowed them to head out to her. In the time it took to walk out to where she was, Aziraphale started to worry that she had forgotten all about them. Surely the life she had now was far superior to the few weeks she spent in the back of the bookshop, taking walks through the streets of London and listening to an angel read books.

All those worries seemed to melt away when Charles looked up and saw them. Even though reptiles couldn’t really change facial expressions, Aziraphale could have sworn he saw her mischievous smile from before. She started to crawl towards them.

“Darling, do you remember us?” Aziraphale asked, holding out a piece of greens which she happily took from his hand. “Do you think she does, Crowley?”

He shrugged. “Dunno, don’t speak tortoise, but she came up to us, so probably.” 

Charles took a bite of the strawberry out of Crowley’s hand, but on her second attempt to finish the fruit she wound up catching his fingers instead. 

“Oi, my nails are black today. What are you eating that you would confuse these for food?” Crowley scolded. 

All the worries that Aziraphale had melted away. For a brief moment he felt as if they were transported back in time, sitting together in the bookshop before she left. But this reality was so much sweeter, since Aziraphale could finally be happy with Crowley at his side and reunited for a moment with the only other creature he allowed into his life so thoroughly. 

It was the only family that Aziraphale could ever want.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I want to give a huge shout out to [Tweedfeather](https://tweedfeather.tumblr.com/) for all the beautiful artwork and the work that you put into reviewing this story. Please go give this amazing artist some love!
> 
> Thank you to the mods who put this event together, it was my first reverse BB and I had a ton of fun working on it.


End file.
